I'm not giving up, I'm just giving in
by coulbyangel
Summary: Arthur/Morgana; high school AU- Arthur's infatuated and Morgana sends mixed signals
1. 14 Years Old

(14)

Morgana was sitting on the counter of Uther's kitchen when she proposed her idea. "What if we kissed a bit?" She asked bluntly, causing Arthur to choke on his toast.

"What if we what?"

Morgana rolled her eyes theatrically. "Oh please. Don't act like you've not at least thought about it."

Arthur drew himself up. "I have most certainly not." He had thought about it though. In fact, he'd even done more than just think about it, but he was most certainly not telling her _that_.

Morgana swung her legs off the counter and moved to sit on the table on which Arthur was currently dining. "Arthur Pendragon," Morgana said, suddenly business-like. "I need someone to kiss me before I turn 15, and if you'd rather I take this offer to some other young man, I shall kindly do so."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Fine. But I'm only doing this because I don't want you kissing some stranger."

Morgana laughed, teasing. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She moved her hand to brush the hair from his forehead, then moved to touch his cheek.

Arthur stiffened automatically. "What- er," he asked, feeling himself blush. "Why do you need me to kiss you anyways?" Morgana shrugged noncommitally. "I haven't gotten my first kiss yet and I mean, I don't want to be unprepared," she said the last word, almost scandalized at the very thought. Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but Morgana interrupted him and wrapped her arms around his neck. The heat from her skin burned him and Arthur was already finding it very difficult to breathe.

"Now shut up Pendragon, and let me kiss you." She leaned in, her lips brushing his hesitantly, then gently steering him towards her so she could kiss him again.

It was all kinds of wonderful, and she tasted like oranges and mint and something else he couldn't quite place. "Yeah," he said a little breathlessly when she finally pulled away. "Yeah, um that was good." Morgana murmured in agreement, and Arthur added an extra "Yeah", hoping he didn't sound as overwhelmled as he felt.

Morgana, seemingly unaffected, hopped off from the table. "Soooo," she said drawing the word out. "Should I go or-"

"Stay!" Arthur burst out immediately, then backtracked. "I mean, you, you should- we should really practice techniques. Unpreparedness, wouldn't want that! No unpreparedness for you!"

"Techniques." Morgana nodded her head quickly. "Very important. No stone left unturned and all that." She seemed to be about to say more, but Arthur simply grinned and pulled her down so he could kiss her again.

* * *

(He sees her at school the next day but ends up going home sick after he finds out that Valiant's asked her out.)

* * *

"The Duke is coming for a visit," Uther informed Arthur, who was lying in his bed.

"Great," said Arthur glumly, remembering Valiant. _Why'd he have to be so good-looking, anyways? And a senior? It was completely unfair. Not that he was jealous or anything, because really, who'd want Morgana? I mean, she wasn't even his type for starters. And her hair was entirely too shiny._ A knock at his bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. The door swung open, and Morgana's face popped out, her face smiling.

"Hi," she said brightly. She walked in, glanced at the new Beckham poster he'd put up and nodded approvingly. She sat down on his bed, extending one leg lazily over his. Her skin was always warm it seemed, always burning. He tried to think of something to say but all he could picture was Morgana kissing Valiant and how her mouth always made a perfect little pout when she got mad at him and _fuck Arthur pull yourself together_.

"I heard about you and... Valiant," he said abruptly, trying not to sound as betrayed as he felt.

Her smile turned teasing. "You're not jealous are you?" She bent down and fiddled with his collar. She was lying practically on top of him now, and Arthur could feel himself growing red. _Just look at her eyes, don't look down don't look down_- shit.

"I don't see anything to be jealous of." He blurted and Morgana scowled at him, crossing her arms and pulling herself back up to her previous position.

She refused to say anything more and Arthur was unsure of what to say so they lay in their respective positions silently. Much to Arthur's relief, the silence only lasted a few minutes.

"Morgana! We're leaving!" The Duke's voice rang from downstairs. She flashed Arthur one last disgusted look before slamming the door.

Arthur buried his face in his pillow, desperately trying to think of anything but Morgana, but she envelopes his every thought.

* * *

"Arthur!" Arthur turned around, seeing Valiant smirk at him enigmatically. "Can I ask you something?" Arthur nodded, already irritated by his good looks and posh accent.

Valiant lowered his tone. "I just wanted to ask you something about Morgana." He conspiratorially winked at Arthur before continuing. "I made a bet with a couple other guys on the football team, and I just need to know whether she's easy or not." Arthur blinked at him twice in confusion, not understanding. Valiant sighed. "I only need to get to second base, and I know her father and yours are friends so I mean- you've got to have some idea, haven't you?"

Understanding dawned on Arthur and he didn't even think twice when he punched Valiant, his hand smashing the cheekbones he'd heard Morgana wax on about to Gwen.

"Fuck," Valiant groaned wincing, before he hit Arthur in the gut. By now, a crowd had gathered. Arthur had never been a fight before, but really there was a first time for everything, wasn't there? He breathed heavily, and he knew the blow should have hurt, but there was something pulsing underneath him and the hurt would come later. He rushed at Valiant, preparing to elbow him in the stomach, but the angle was off and he could feel himself slam into something hard. His hands reached around on the solid surface was that brick and he could hear jeering then-

"Don't touch him," Morgana announced. Arthur turned his head, dazed. Was that her or was he just imagining it?

"Don't worry about it," Valiant said, and Arthur saw him try and hold her as if to move her away from the fight. She shoved away his hand, and he saw her knee go up, before connecting with Valiant's groin.

"Don't fucking touch me," she hissed, and Arthur wanted to laugh, but the pain was coming in bursts now and _god fucking dammit it hurt_. "Also," she said, almost as a second thought.

"We're done." Arthur saw her walk over to him, cradling his face in her hands before it all went black.

* * *

("It's not every day a girl gets to save her prince," she says, kissing his forehead. Arthur gropes for an indicator of where he is and realizes he's in his bed. He turns his head to focus on the current situation, deciding he feels a bit wounded at the notion that he needed saving. He says something typical of their usual banter but she only ends up looking hurt for a moment before leaving in a flurry of skirts. He's about to say something, but the words get trapped in a tangle and stick in his throat.)

(He lies in bed for a few minutes, desperately inhaling the scent of orange and mint she's left behind.)

(Stay, he remembers. I was going to ask her to stay.)


	2. 15 Years Old

(15)

(She's sobbing into his arms and he's never seen her cry before, and to be honest he never wants to again. She's so distressed he wants to yell, he wants to scream, he wants to take away her pain.

"He's dead," Morgana gasps into his shoulder, whimpering. "Dead."

Arthur kisses her mouth and steals the sobs away from her. He kisses her on the staircase with his hands digging into her hair and blocking her ears from the shouts of the EMS. She tastes like loss and pain and blood, and he can feel her nails claw insistently on the back of his neck.

"Arthur," Morgana says, pulling away abruptly. "Promise," she says, her voice breaking. "Promise not to leave." Her eyes are burning into his, her nails digging even deeper into his shoulder. Arthur stares at her for a moment, and he doesn't even think before he replies.

"It was never possible for me to leave you." She gazes at him unblinkingly, then rests her head on his shoulder. They fall asleep like that. Fingers interlocked, and him leaning a bit uncomfortably on the staircase rail. They forget reality because sometimes, sometimes reality is too harsh for even the already-broken.)

* * *

Uther's already made arrangements to adopt Morgana, spouting lofty speeches about duty and honor, but Arthur knows the real reason. He's seen the way Uther looks at Morgana, as though it's his fault The Duke is dead, and Arthur doesn't say anything but he suspects.

Arthur watched Morgana walk away from Uther, thanking him kindly and kissing him on the cheek. He watched her choose simple furniture and bed sheets for her new room, and order dozens of dresses for the new school year, but he knew better.

He tried to talk to her at the beginning of the year, but she refused to listen.

"Arthur," she growled. "I'm fucking fine."

He only nodded tentatively and tried to think of something to say. "You know, I meant it." His fingers curled around hers, but she moved them away.

She looked a bit confused, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him. "Meant what?"

"I'm never going to leave you." He turned away and he saw her mouth open in small _o_ in his peripheral vision.

* * *

(She comes into his bedroom that night and he doesn't say anything, just watches her as she climbs into his bad and fits herself next to him. He wraps an arm around her and kisses her neck. She smells like ashes but tastes like rain.

"I had a dream," she says softly, her body tensing.

"What was it about?" He asks, pulling her closer. She's warm and familiar and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed talking to her till now.

"You died." She says it softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear. They lay in silence for a few moments, before Morgana gets up, her figure paling in the moonlight. She lets her fingers trail over his cheek thoughtfully and they speak the eons she can't say.

Arthur watches her leave in a flurry of skirts and wonders when she turned into someone he didn't know.)

(Or maybe he never really knew her at all.)

* * *

**author's note: So if you could review the story that would basically be amazingggg, and I'm sorry this chapter's so short, but I'll be updating soon at least:)**


	3. 16 Years Old

(16)

Smoke. It's the first thing he smelled on her as she walked in, skirt a little too short, top a little too off-kilter. She walked with gravity and he watched her smile at him, taunting and alluring.

"Father's going to kill you," he announced brusquely.

"Why?"

He laughed, and it's cold and toneless and utterly unlike him. "For going out so later, and dressed like _that._" He motioned to her skimpy clothing. Morgana didn't even flinch. He cleared his throat. "So, who is this new boy of yours?"

"Jealousy," her voice strange and utterly devoid of warmth. "Is such an _unattractive _trait on a man." She left the room, hands twirling and legs lifting, as if being carried away by the devil himself.

It's not until he heard her door slam that he remembered to breathe again.

* * *

"Mr. Alvarr," Arthur said, opening the door, ready to ask him if there was any extra work he could do to get an A in his class. His voice is cut short and he saw the black hair tumbling down her back, the way her hands wrapped around his neck, and he felt suddenly very, very sick.

Something within him felt incredibly woozy and he heard the door slam distantly as he closed it. It was almost like he had a headache, except the pain was much more distinct. All the late night meetings suddenly made sense, all the over the top clothing, and the way she barely seemed to glance at him nowadays.

He broke out into a run and didn't stop until he was exhausted and sweaty. Once he was home, he climbed into his bed, wondering if it was possible for an angel to also be the devil.

* * *

"I refuse to apologize," Morgana said stiffly, watching as Arthur glared at her. "What I do with people is my business and mine only." Arthur simply glared at her for a while then returned to his book.

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to get hurt Arthur. Alvarr's an adult and so am I."

_You're only sixteen, _he wanted to shout. Instead, he just gave her a clenched smile. "Alvarr's a shit name."

She rested her hands on his shoulders. "So's Pendragon," she murmured hotly in his ear.

* * *

(Uther finds out because Uther always finds out, and Morgana's utterly distraught. Arthur finds her curled up on his bed when he gets home, using his sheets to cover her broken form. He doesn't ask any questions, simply kissing her forehead and assuming a cross-legged position underneath her. "It's going to be okay," he murmurs.

She tries to laugh, but it gets stuck in her throat. "It's not just _that_, Arthur." He looks at her inquisitively, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. "Alvarr," she says quietly. "He has a wife."

"Alvarr's a shit name," he whispers into the nape of her neck. She traces the bone along which his cheekbones seem to sharply jut. "I prefer Pendragon," she says, and there's something that feels suspiciously like butterflies in Arthur's stomach.)

* * *

(Uther tells Arthur he's sending him to an elite boarding school in Ireland and Arthur doesn't protest, although he's aware of Morgana's disapproving gaze. Uther waves him a firm goodbye on the day he leaves, and instructs Morgana to drop him off at the airport. Once Arthur's about to board, Morgana grabs his hand, turning him around to face her.

"You're too soft for your own good, Arthur Pendragon." She kisses him on the cheek, but there's something like longing in her eyes.

He only nods and is about to turn away, but changes his mind at the last second. It takes about a second for his lips to connect with hers and Arthur thinks he's homesick already.)


	4. 17 Years Old

(17)

He hadn't heard from her in months. He'd known Morgana wasn't one for sweet talking or even small talk, but he missed her. He could have cared less if it had been about how boring her life was, or yet another attempt to set him up with some girl that she knew he'd absolutely hate. His roommate, Sophia, peeked in.

"Waiting for a letter from Morgana again?" She asked, sighing. He glared at her. It seemed that people here were unusually nosy when it came to private lives, but Sophia was the worst.

"She's going to webcam me this afternoon," he informed her icily. She laughed then sobered when she realized he wasn't joking.

"What time?"

He glanced at his watch. "In five minutes, actually." Anticipation seared through his veins. He propped up the webcam, pausing to check his reflection in the mirror. He'd grown a bit taller, his face a bit more defined. He'd gained a bit of weight too, but most of it was muscle. "Sophia," he asked, feeling silly already. "I'm attractive, yeah?" Sophia considered him for a moment.

"Really attractive," she said softly, and there was something about her tone that made him look at her sharply. She was gazing at him predatorily, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit intrigued. He hadn't had a proper relationship since Vivien and really, it wasn't like him and Morgana were seeing each other, were they?

"Sophia," he started, wondering what would be the best way to propose a relationship between him and his roommate.

"Way ahead of you," she said softly, and kissed him. It was a good kiss, warm and fuzzy feeling, although none of the electricity and edge he got from kissing Morgana. It was a change, but a nice one. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that his webcam had already been turned on until he heard someone clear their throat.

"Ahem," Morgana said. "Hope I'm not interrupting a very serious makeout session."

Arthur blushed, pulling away from Sophia. "Uh, Morgana. Meet my roommate, Sophia."

"Girlfriend," Sophia corrected, tightening her grip on Arthur. Arthur frowned, but then an overwhelming wave of agreement flashed over him. "Yeah, uh girlfriend."

Morgana eyed Sophia suspiciously. "_You're_ Arthur's girlfriend?"

"Oh don't get all jealous," she said, smirking. "Are you one of Arthur's exes as well? Or does Arthur not know how you feel about him?"

Morgana flashed Sophia a threatening glare. "I'm Arthur's sister."

"Adopted sister," Arthur cut in, feeling like this was very necessary information to remember, considering that he had, after all kissed Morgana a few months ago in a less-than-brotherly way.

"Adopted sister," Morgana conceded. "Besides, Arthur and I are perfectly platonic." Sophia rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm very sure." She sounded sarcastic though, even to Arthur's ears.

"Sophia, darling! Do you mind getting me my books from Mr. Kilgharrah's class? I think I… left them there." Arthur felt a little bit more than awkward at the moment, and Sophia's presence wasn't exactly helping. She kissed his cheek.

"Fine," she said. "I'll be back soon, mkay?"

"Arthur!" Morgana whispered frantically, once Sophia had left the room. "You can't date her, for fuck's sake!"

"Why, Morgana? Jealous, are you? It's not the first time is it?" He could see Morgana practically bristle at that. _Arthur, 1; Morgana, 0._

Morgana leaned in towards the webcam, brushing off his comment. "I had a dream... all those years ago, do you remember it?" Arthur's brow furrowed. "You died. And... And in the dream, she- she was the one that killed you. Arthur! You have got to listen to me, please!"

Arthur was already turning off the webcam. What did she know of love anyways? It wasn't like she'd ever loved anyone but herself, that he was sure of.

* * *

(He doesn't spot the silver glint of the knife, not until Sophia drags it into his flesh. My heart, he thinks idiotically, she's going to break my heart.

He hears screams and he thinks that oddly, they aren't his own. It's a female's scream, wailing and broken-hearted, yet hauntingly beautiful. Arthur's distantly recalls beautiful sirens and he tries to call out to the mysterious screamer, but finds that he can't even breathe. _Oh_, he thinks. _I'm dying._

Arthur Pendragon lays abandoned, but this is not the way he is destined to die.)

(Arthur, he hears. He hears his name repeated over and over, and he tries to rise to the surface, he tries to claw his way back, but the weight is too much. He is Atlas holding the Sky, and is unable to put it down.

He listens in silent agony to tortured pleading, hearing how the name Arthur sounds on this anguished woman's lips, and he prays, he prays for strength to rise back from the dead. What kind of hell, he wonders, is this?

_I love you_, the voice says. _I love you goddammit_, _Arthur Pendragon_, the voice says. Arthur's propelled to the surface, his heart beats faster and faster and the words push him upwards, breaking his trance.

I love you, the voice had said.

His eyes open. "Morgana.")

* * *

Morgana checked him out of the hospital, her eyes mysteriously bloodshot. "Don't ever do that again," she yelled. "Don't you dare, ever leave me like that again." She sniffled, and Arthur awkwardly squeezed her arm.

"Actually, if I'm correct, I think I almost died, so don't I deserve some kind of-"

Morgana stood up straight. "Arthur Pendragon, you were stabbed by your crazy bitch of a girlfriend whom _I_ warned you against. And _you have_ the _nerve to tell me_ that I should give you some kind of special treatment?" Arthur crossed his arms.

"Fuck _you. _Besides, how the fuck did you even get here so fast?"

"I was visiting you. Just to make you hadn't fucked everything up yet, but of course that's impossible for you not to do, isn't it?"

They screamed, they yelled, and they kissed. The stars quietly realigned themselves and the world allowed itself to spin again.

* * *

("Go on a date with me." He finally gets the nerve to ask her, his hands nervously tapping on the wall.

She looks at him in mild amusement. "A date? Now why on earth would you want to go on a date with me?" It's a serious question however, a question that he can think of a thousand answers to. This morning, her hair is piled up on top of her head and her t-shirt's threadbare in a way that goes straight to his groin. He refocuses his eyes on hers and prepares to tell her that he's madly in love with her.

"Because you love me," he says instead, immediately cursing his mouth for being such a coward. He watches the muscles in her neck tighten.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" She turns around with a false calm demeanor, wiping her hands on a dish cloth.

Arthur groans. He knew it was an unfair card for him to play, but _dear god can't she ever just admit some things for once? He'd heard her when he was dying, for Christ's sake_! "You told me. You said it yourself when I was dying." She opens her mouth in protest, but Arthur keeps talking. "Don't you _dare _lie to me, especially about this. Just tell me the truth for once, for once in your life, tell me the damn truth!"

She shoves past him, knocking over a plastic vase, and letting it smash on the floor. "Fuck you Arthur; I'm leaving, fuck, I'm _leaving, _okay?" She trips over a broken shard, and he grabs for her, hands firm and strong, holding her.

Her body's warm and _pulsing _and he pulls her close to him. Her eyeliner's slightly smudged and her cheeks are flushed like they always are when she gets mad at him. His mouth is set in a firm line and this time, this time he can't let her get away, this time he _won't _let her leave.

"And maybe," he says seriously. "Maybe, I'm a little bit in love with you too.")

(They end up making out in the backseat of Arthur's ridiculous sports car before they can even get to their dinner reservations.)

* * *

There's a knock at the door and Morgana rose up to get it. "You have a visitorrrr," she sang. Arthur grinned at her, as he watched her twirl around in a mixture of mini-pirouettes and leaps.

"Just answer the damn door, Morgana." Arthur began to put on his trousers and laughed when he saw that she was still in her bra and panties. "Fuck, Morgana. Whoever's on the other side is going to _very _surprised when they see you." Morgana rolled her eyes.

"Well then, let's see who the lucky guy is, shall we?" Her eyes were animated, brighter than he's ever seen her before. Her hand turned the doorknob and swung it open.

(The room has never felt so cold before.)

* * *

**author's note: CLIFFHANGER. I KNOW. SORRY ABOUT THAT BUT I DO LOVE A GOOD CLIFFHANGER. anyways, you know the deal, reviews are great so and so forth.**


	5. 18 Years Old

(18)

"She's pretty," Merlin, his new roommate, commented. He pointed at a picture next to Arthur's bed. Arthur glanced over, his heart dropping slightly when he saw what picture he'd been referring to.

They'd taken the picture at the park a year ago. Morgana's arms were wrapped around his neck, lounging lazily on him. She took up most of the picture, which was just as well. His face was focused on her in an expression that could only be described as… smitten. She'd teased him about it for weeks, until Arthur caught her chasing off one of his girlfriends.

It had been a good memory, but all of that was long gone now. Arthur rubbed his temple. "Yeah, she really is."

Merlin thoughtfully bit into his sandwich. "Who is she, anyways?" He asked; mouth full.

Arthur doesn't answer.

(_Uther walks in, his boots making hollow noises as they hit the floor. "What are you doing?" He is steel, he is iron, and he is the God that plays with their future as though they were puppets._

_Arthur's voice dries out in his throat and he's never felt so hyperaware of every second that passes. Morgana answers for him, her voice strong and it echoes in his ear. However, he hears the way her voice cracks on the last syllable and it shatters any semblance of poise in him. "It's obvious isn't it?" Her tone isn't mocking, simply a statement of the facts. He counts the goose bumps on her pale skin, terrified to look at Uther's face._

_He doesn't see the hand move; he hears the __**crack**__, the sharp twist of Morgana's neck. There's a red mark on her cheek and his feet are frozen in place and he's distinctly conscious of the loud thuds his pulse is making. Her scream pierces the air, shrill and broken. Hands grab at her, Uther's bodyguards digging their rough hands against her. "Take her away," Uther demands coldly, as he is no father, he is a stone pillar. _

"_You're going home," Uther says to Arthur, but Arthur does not hear. He can only see the purpled bruises Uther's bodyguards make dragging her out the door. The skin where he kissed her, marking her as his, are now covered in entirely different bruises. Something in his world feels tilted and so incredibly __**wrong. **_

"_Let her go," he pleads. "Let her go, and I'll never see her again. I'll break up with her and I'll stay at boarding school and get perfect grades, just leave her be! I'll do anything!"_

_Uther's features contort in disgust, hands motioning to the closed door separating him from Morgana. "You value her that much?"_

"_I'd sacrifice my life for her."_

_Uther shakes his head, his eyes not fully comprehending the Arthur he sees before him. "Pendragons," he whispers gutturally. "Do not love.")_

_(He doesn't ask Uther what that makes him.)_

Arthur rang the doorbell and tried to ignore the incessant pounding of rain outside. "Hi Fa-" His voice died out as the door opened to reveal someone who was most definitely _not _Uther. "Morgana. I thought you were at- you know, boarding school." One of the conditions of her release had been for her to go to boarding school, like Arthur had. Arthur had been thankful for that, because truthfully, he wasn't sure he could see Morgana again without breaking any of the rules Uther had placed.

She'd grown a bit taller and her eyes seemed greener than when he last saw her. She was dressed casually, but Arthur avoided looking down, where it seemed her legs stretched on for miles. "Uther graced me with the privilege of returning home for the holiday." Her tone was bored, as though she couldn't care less if he'd shown up. His sudden inability to form proper sentences seemed to indicate Arthur felt differently however, so he simply slid past her into the mansion.

"Do you know if Father's still got some of my old clothes?" He gestured to his body, damp from the heavy rain. Morgana waved her hand aimlessly.

"You can check." He nodded in acknowledgement and walked up the stairs to his old room. Everything had been cleaned in his room, fine-tuned to the point of perfection by their housekeeper, but all of his original belongings remained. Arthur reached into his closet, pulling out a shirt and a pair of jeans. He began to undress, sliding the damp material off of his skin. His old jeans still fit him, but the shirt was slightly harder to put on.

"Have you still not learned to dress yourself?"

Arthur turned and found Morgana staring at him. "The shirt's kind of tight," he explained, trying not to blush.

Her mouth quirked at the corners. "Are you sure you haven't gained weight?"

"I'm perfectly fit!"

"Then why can't you button your shirt?"

Arthur had no reply to that. "Look," he huffed, mortified. "Are you going to help me or not?" She merely rolled her eyes and began to button his shirt. He could feel her hands through the thin fabric, radiating ridiculous heat. It unsettled him for some reason, so he concentrated on her hands, trying not to think about how close they were.

"How's school?" He asked, trying to make small talk. He felt the shift in her hands as they moved down to the side. He forced himself to look at her.

"Lovely," she answered, and a stray hair fell to frame her face. It bothered him, and before he could stop himself, he brushed the hair from her face. The touch made her stumble backwards and the loss of her heat almost pained him.

"What was that for?" She asked, and Arthur could only make vague motions.

"Your hair, it was in the way-"

"In the way of what?" There's sharpness in her tone that reminded Arthur that he can't just kiss her and make her love him again; this time there are rules to the game and these are the only rules that he can't seem to follow.

(_He answers the door and she's standing there. He just got out of bed and her smile is tentative, like she's not sure whether she's allowed to come in or not._

"_I think-," they both start at the same time. Morgana gestures for him to speak first._

"_I think," he swallows, willing the words to come of their own accord. "I think we should stop seeing each other." Everything seems to still and she's the only kinetic thing in the room. Her mouth opens and closes, like she's somehow forgotten to breathe. _Don't make me do this to her, _he thinks, trying to telepathize his thoughts to Uther. _Don't make me take away the only person she has left._ His prayers go unanswered however, so Arthur closes the door, hands tight over the knob as he tries to remember how to inhale and exhale. He sinks to the floor, burying his hand in his hands. For a while, he just cries and cries.)_

_(Oh, how the mighty have fallen.)_

Arthur watched Morgana from the top of the stairs. She was yelling at Uther and he in turn was rubbing his forehead, evidently already tired of the argument.

"Morgana," Uther commanded, voice hard. "I don't care if Gwen is the most qualified person on the planet. She will not, I repeat _will not_, get the internship. She is _not _of the Pendragon lineage and is therefore, not qualified for shit."

She shook her head, her voice strangled and thick. "Then the company is doomed. Because one by one you make enemies of us all." Uther's mouth twitched and Arthur can _see it_; he can tell what will happen next. It's déjà vu, the way Uther backed Morgana up against a wall, hand on her throat.

This time he is certain of his movements because there is a line and Uther has just crossed it. His hands grabbed Uther's jacket and he pulled, harder than he ever has before. The old man crumbled at his touch and Arthur feels drunk on anger and there is searing red wherever he looked. "You lied," he screamed through gritted teeth. "You promised to leave her alone."

There is a sudden fear glaring through Uther's eyes and Arthur can see every one of Uther's veins. His hands closed tighter around Uther's neck, and Arthur can tell that he's choking him but this all felt too surreal to stop. "Don't you dare," Arthur bit down on his tongue and he tastes blood. "Touch her again." He released Uther in a fluid motion, and then grabbed Morgana's hand, pulling her through the door.

"What are you doing?" Her tone is accusing and he stopped moving, turning around to face her.

"Don't you remember? I'm never going to leave you." He pulled her towards him, nearly crushing her with his weight. "We're going to leave, okay? We never have to come back to this house ever again. School ends in a month, and then-," The words were falling out in rushed jumbles and Arthur stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

"And then," Morgana finished. "And then we can do whatever we want to." She released herself from his embrace, and he's almost unsettled by how confident she is. Even his breathing's ragged by now, yet she stands tall and firm, still unwilling to yield. She seemed to catch the way he looked at her, and her tone softened. "What?"

This time, when his hand brushed the stray hair from her face, she didn't flinch. "Uther promised that if I stayed away from you, he'd never hurt you again."

Her voice turned bitter. "Uther lies."

He placed a protective hand around her and backed her up against his car. "I'm never leaving again."

"Never ever?" She rested his hand on his cheek.

"Never," he replied roughly and pressed his mouth to hers.

("You can't just break promises and repay me back in sex," Morgana grumbles, tracing a pattern on his chest.

Arthur shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know- it's working pretty well…" Morgana laughed and punched his shoulder, turning around and pulling her body close to his.

"Tell me you love me," she demands. He draws constellations with his finger on her back and measures the contrast of his skin against hers.

"I love you," he whispers in her ear. "I love you more than- MERLIN!"

Merlin stands red-faced, the door swinging behind him. "Sorry to uh… interrupt you two." He walks towards Morgana and awkwardly offers her his hand. "I'm Merlin, Arthur's roommate."

Morgana giggles and pulls the sheet up to her chest as she shakes Merlin's hand. "I'm Morgana." Merlin makes excitatory gesticulations, jumping up and down.

"You're the really gorgeous girl in that picture!" Arthur glares at him. Merlin sobers a bit, blushing again. "Sorry," he addresses Morgana.

She laughs again. "I like your roommate, Arthur." Arthur simply rolls his eyes.

"Merlin's an idiot."

"An attractive one," Morgana scolds him. Merlin seems unsure how to reply to this and he stares at his fingertips shyly. Arthur narrows his eyes and makes shooing motions with his hands.

"Merlin, can you leave? I've got a girl I'd like to do things with and Morgana, for the love of God, STOP FLIRTING WITH MY ROOMMATE!" Merlin scurries off, muttering something about "how come Arthur gets to bring pretty girls home but I can't even bring Gwen home for dinner". Morgana simply gives Arthur a disappointed look before pinning him to the bed.

"You suck," she pouts. "Now tell me how much you love me."

He whispers something in her ear and she collapses beside him and they build themselves houses of cards under the sheets and let them crumble.)

(_"I love you so much that I hardly know how to stop."_)

END


End file.
